It is the beginning of the week and so that means work! Well not 9 to 5 type work (we are not coming out of retirement) but business needs to get done. Last week Rudy tried to book bus tickets to Cartagena online. And despite the fact he spent a long time and did it over and over again, and asked ChatGPT for help, and muttered under his breath, he was not able to get it completed. They just weren’t accepting his credit card. So, this morning, we headed out into the heat to catch a city bus down to the Terminal de Transportes de Santa Marta. We caught a bus. I inquired whether it went “a terminal” and off we went. We wound our way back and forth and eventually got there. We pealed our sweaty backs off the bus seats and went inside the terminal to purchase tickets for Saturday. With some false starts and misunderstandings we (and by we, I mean Rudy) were able to get the tickets. Back we went outside into the blistering sun and after waiting for the bus for a short time, we caved and took a taxi back to our place. Now we are all set to move on to our next destination on the weekend.
After such a strenuous beginning to the day, we needed to relax. I worked on drawing and painting was glad to pronounce my efforts a success. By success I do not mean, work of art. But I was able to get some shadows and reflections on the tabletop and also get the look of a glass bowl and a tumbler looking like that were transparent. Water colour work is so interesting because you have to work very quickly at some points in order to get your paint down and not rework it so it looks muddy but also slow because you need to let areas dry before you move on. I feel like such a newbie on all these efforts and will probably look back on these postings as very rudimentary. (I hope so because that means I will have continued to work on this after the Colombia trip and I will get better.) But art is a lot like golf (at least this is how Rudy explains it). You can think you are getting better and then all of a sudden you are back to first base. (too many mixed metaphors??)
By late afternoon I was ready to venture outside again. So I went for an explore in the neighbourhood and down to the beach to see what was happening there. Each beach has its own flavour. This one is smaller than the last beach we were at. It is bookended at the north and south edge by cliffs. It is also a locals beach. (I only saw 2 other recognizable foreigners). It is a recreational area as well as a working beach. Fishing boats pulled up on the shore take up a good chunk of space. And it was teaming with people. I spent such a delightful time just people watching: babies and toddlers splashing and jumping in the waves, parents building castles with their kids, teenagers, sweaty and panting, as they kick a soccer ball down the beach, and even a quinceanera photoshoot. I arrived in time to catch the last of the daylight and to watch the sunset.
On the way home I passed a few of those places that make this neighbourhood a strange place. Right across the street from us in our high-rise is a camp ground. Who actually camps there? I don’t know because to try to sit or sleep in this heat would be absolutely impossible.
Supper was at the end of the street. The little bakery turns into an Arabic Restaurant at night. But they don’t cook anything there. Instead they send the delivery boy to pick up the china plates of hummus, tabouli, and kebab on his bicycle. We had to wait a bit for the food but it was well worth it. So delicious. And while we waited I watched a bit of soccer at the small indoor-sized (but outdoor) soccer pitch.
